Miracles Through Connections

Below is Enock's letter written during his time in an Egyptian police station. He was able to get a hold of a phone and send pictures of his letter to me. The letter depicts how life has been for him and his fellow inmates.

At the time he sent this letter, this was before he had his final court date in which he was sentenced to 25 years to Egyptian Prison.

Now that he is sentenced, his name being released to the public can not affect his sentence. I hope this letter will encourage anyone who can help and create awareness of Enock's situation.

"Dear brothers and sisters,

I wanted to start my letter by introducing myself, but due to fear of what the
government may do to both me and the people around me, I choose to tell my story
without my official name in this letter.
Instead, I would like to start my letter explaining how I perceive life to be and
how much it means to me and to the inmates that are suffering with me.
Life is moments added together over the course of time. We are told to believe
and cherish every moment because we don't know what the future holds.
Life truly is precious, even though we don't think about it, especially when we
are struggling . I am learning to appreciate life more and more every day. Ever since I
was a child, I looked at someone from prison with a nonjudgmental perspective because
of what they must have been through. Now being in a prison myself, I understand life a
little bit more. Allow me to explain.
Since being captured, I have realized that many foreign prisoners, like myself,
are being punished undeservingly. It could be as insignificant as one small mistake that
gets them a year in a cold, dark, disease-infested jail cell for weeks, months, or years.
Throughout my whole life, I always believed I was a good person. I help when
I can. Therefore, I believe I am fighting for someone's life by writing this letter.
I have been dreaming for the past eight months about seeing my family, about
hearing my little brother's laugh, seeing my mother's smile, or even hearing my sister's
snide remarks. I dreamt about how I want to build my life for my own family one day.
This is a goal shared by all the foreign prisoners here. Every foreign prisoner here is
thousands miles away from home and family. They are unfamiliar with the language
here, can't find a trustworthy lawyer to represent them, and only have us (their fellow
cellmates) to turn to. I never imagined, eight months ago, I would be writing a letter in my one and
only worned spiral notebook, begging for someone to listen to my story.
I was a full-time university student studying computer science at The University
Texas at Dallas. I was a full-time worker clocking in over 40 hours a week, most weeks.
I am a son to the greatest, most patient, and loving mother. I had dreams of studying and
working so hard so that I can live my remaining days on this Earth with the most beautiful,
caring woman God can grant me with.

Then came March, I made a horrible mistake. I replay the mistake every single day of my life now and I still can’t understand why I did it. My mistake was simply trusting someone I believed was a friend, someone I met at Tarrant County College. This friend offered me a once in a lifetime opportunity to travel to Egypt. I had never heard anything negative about Egypt. From movies and books, Egypt seemed like a very rich country with so much history that anyone who travels or want to travel should visit. This friend informs me of a tourist company he and his family owns and how they would personally drive me everywhere to show me everything about Egypt. All he was asking for was some tourism fees to show me around the country. I had learned in school that if I want to make a real change in the world, I need to go see the world and it appeared as if God have given me that chance. I have been to countries like Austria, Germany, and took various trips with friends inside the states. I had learned so much from those trips. So in my life, I believe in traveling and that’s something that will never stop. So once spring break came around, I was on a plane to Egypt.

I bought a plane ticket from Dallas, Texas to Cairo, Egypt transitioning in Los Angeles, California and Istanbul, Turkey before I finally would land in Egypt. Once I had my bags checked in and I was ready to board my flight, the attendant announced the flight was full and therefore, I had to rearrange my flight schedule in order to catch my flight from Dallas to Los Angeles. So I bought another ticket with another departing time to Los Angeles in order to still make my connecting flight from Los Angeles to Istanbul. However, I was worried about someone stealing my bag so I contacted the same friend to see if he can wait for me at the airport and make sure that my bag is safe.
Original Flight Times: From Dallas to Los Angeles 6:00 AM-11:00 AM

(Duration: 5 hrs)

Los Angeles to Istanbul 5:00 AM-6:00 PM  

(Duration: 13 hrs)

(New Time Zone)

Istanbul to Cairo 7:00 AM-10:00 AM

(Duration: 3 hrs)

New Flight Times: From Dallas to Los Angeles 11:30 AM-4:30 PM

(Duration: 5 hrs)

Los Angeles to Istanbul 5:00 AM-6:00 PM

(Duration: 13 hrs)

(New Time Zone)

Istanbul to Cairo 7:00 AM-10:00 AM

(Duration: 3 hrs)

So when I finally reached Los Angeles, I contacted my friend and asked where he was and he informed me that he was standing outside the doors. So I walk to the gate he was waiting at and I saw him there ready to hand me my luggage.As soon as I got to Los Angeles, I believe I held my luggage for about two minutes because I checked it in as soon as I could so I would not miss my next flight. I landed in Istanbul and spent 13 hours in the airport, even slept there waiting for my next flight to Cairo. Throughout this whole time, I did not have my luggage still. The next morning, I flew to Cairo, Egypt. When I got to the scanner after buying my visa, the officer stopped me and checked my luggage. The officer found ten pounds of marijuana drugs on top of my clothes and then proceeded to ask me what it was. I was shocked. I have never had any experience with drugs so you can imagine, my horror. I told the officer that I was not aware of any drugs being in my bag. I told them that, I would have gotten caught with these drugs during all my connecting flights. I gave him my boarding passes to the (now multiple) officers and explained why I came to Egypt but, they didn’t believe me. I begged the officers, to check outside the airport for my friend’s father because he was waiting for me. He should have my name on a poster and if you go outside,  you will see him. I asked them to please bring him inside and he can explain everything. However, the officers would still not believe me. Since that day, I have been imprisoned by the Egyptian government. So for 8 months and counting, I have been waiting for my trial at a local police station.

Every month or so, I go to court hoping for the jury to hear my case and allow me to go home, but my trial would get postponed and I return to not seeing the sun for another month.
As time moves forward, I keep feeling more and more hopeless.
If God exist, why am I suffering for this?

When I speak to the Embassy they tell me that there’s nothing they can do for my case. The man responsible for my case, the person who put drugs in my luggage, is imprisoned in the United States but the American government can’t help me? Why? What more proof is needed?

This man responsible for all of this is a wanted man in Egypt. If he’s in America, it means he is there illegally. If the Egyptian government knows that he is imprisoned in the USA because of being accused of the drugs in his house, then what am I still doing here? The country I was raised in has neglected me and the country I am imprisoned in has neglected me. I am stuck in a crossroads of two countries with neither country willing to help.

This is only my side of the story but there so many cases, like mine, that go unnoticed. I thank God everyday for the people that I have met here in this police station because I have learned so much from them.

This particular prison have some very good people and I care and pray to God that he can help me and them.

In my cell alone, there are about 50 people and I have listened to about half of the people’s stories. I listen because it helps me escape my fleeting reality, but mostly, because I care.

I have even made friends here and I feel nothing but, pain and sorrow for what they must be feeling inside. An emotion common in all of us here.

I became friends with someone who only came to Egypt for a 2 hour layover on his way to Dubai but has spent almost 6 months in this police station. He was planning to spend his birthday with his friends in Dubai, but had no choice but transit in Cairo before taking a flight that lands to Dubai. He was detained for almost 6 months because he forgot he had his pen gun in one of his bags he travels with regularly. No food from the police station, no place to sleep because of the how crowded it is here, no visits from anyone except for a church that comes every two weeks, no telephone to call home and let them know of what happened.

There’s a story about one Nigerian Muslim man whom was accused of absolutely nothing and is serving a 6 month sentence not in prison but rather in a police station. He was traveling back to his country with his family when the police stopped him to check his passport for someone that’s wanted by the government.

This wanted man has the same name as this Nigerian man but the police brought him to the police station while they check his records. The government seized his bank account and he wasn’t able to leave the station until he hired a lawyer to defend him. Because his bank account was frozen, this man couldn’t afford a lawyer to represent him and he couldn’t go out even though the government couldn't find anything on him. He found a lawyer that can represent him and he could pay by payments from his poor family and friends raising the money.

Because of how little he can pay. The man gets 6 months sentence to pay for the lawyer. Having not done anything wrong at all, he’s detained.

Just last week his wife contacted him telling him that the only child, a son, died in the hospital after he had boiling water spilled on him. The baby was only one and a half years old. The Nigerian Muslim man is now here, sitting and waiting until he goes home to see his wife again.

A man as innocent as him, what is he doing in the place like this?

What did he ever do wrong to the world that he deserve this, especially in the moments like these? The Koran is his only source of peace and comfort.

These are only a couple of short stories about the unfair justice here, the unfair moments in our life that we have all learned to regret forever. We are humans, we pray, we believe in God, but we are not sure if God listens to our prayers.

I wish this was only a story or a film but, these are the lives of the men and women here in Egypt.

There are more stories that I can write about but, I believe I can help end this mistreatment of justice with this letter. Many prisoners here do not have the opportunity to write this letter to someone who is willing to help but, I do. This is my written hope that someone will listen, read, and reach out to help. Anything will help.

Now one would assume since there are so many of us from different backgrounds, we would be fighting all the time. This is not the case. We have never had a fight about religion. Instead, everyone, all religions, are brothers and sisters and treat each other with care and compassion. Everyone is facing their own battle and we do not have the energy to fight about our differences and beliefs. When someone ask about my case or family, they finish their hopes with an “Inshallah you go home”.

Inshallah is a word used to express how we don’t know what tomorrow is and by God’s will or chance, the future is better. God surely does work in mysterious ways and I am sure he will deliver us from this evil of today.

This letter is not concerning the government but, to whoever believes in God and can help. God is good and God is forgiving. It is by his miracle that anything happens, and we do nothing here but pray for his forgiveness. We endure this temporary pain, imagine our family’s pain and suffering, and wake up the next day with the same strength in our prayers. I refuse to just have words on paper. My words must and will be read and touched by many, Inshallah. To even have the opportunity to get help is so important. That is why, you are reading my letter. To receive as many opportunities as I can. God is good and he works miracles through people. I pray this will be one of those times God shows me a miracle.

I now want to take the time to thank everyone for your time reading about my current journey. I want to thank the people that will read it and most importantly, the brothers and sisters that will make an impact.

In all these I pray to God through his own son and king Jesus Christ.

Amen

If this story has touched you and you are able to help with anything, please contact

Martha Tran

vymartha1@gmail.com

If you have any information about someone who has gone through a similar situation, please email us about what they have done to return home, or if they are still in need of help."

I have created a public facebook page for everyone to view updates on Enock's journey
with the Egyptian government. This page is also open to any and ALL ideas on how to
bring Enock home.

https://www.facebook.com/justiceforenock/?modal=admin_todo_tour